Legacy of Fathers
by EdithPearl
Summary: Hannibal was never behind bars. He never surrendered. And Will found a new path that lead him to a family he would attach himself with great love. 35 years later, William Graham Jr, found himself experiencing the same situations his father had before he was born. The legacies of the two men, in a complex relationship just like their fathers did.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my First attempt at writing a fiction about a TV show. And I am a little disappointed. I have three other unfinished stories and I sma starting this.**

 **Please read with mercy. :-)**

For William Graham Jr. , Life was not so enjoyable. He was content with what he was having for the moment. A lecturer in the subject of criminal psychology is not very good for your mind. He knew that he was stepping the traces of what his father had done. And he was damn good at that. A reminder that the father and the son are so alike. Everyday, he would wake up at 5:00, worked out by running 10 kilos. He always took care of his breakfast with care, a habit he got from his father. And then he would walk to the Academy he was teaching. That was a good five kilos but he walked everyday. Jack Crawford always told him how he and his father are so alike . From the appearance to the ability they shared. And he was even teaching at the Academy his father used to teach. Young blood of new generation of crime fighter. Great enthusiation, eager eyes and fresh brains. How he loves his job.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman." He greeted his class, without looking back atthem, he clicked open the projector and a picture of a crime scene popped up. Almost everyone gasped. He chuckled. Cause almost everyone who are familiar with the criminology knew this scene too well. " This is the infamous crime scene of Hannibal Lector" He said looking up, remembering the fact that his father was the one who investigated that one killer, and almost got killed as a result.

A young woman was impaled on the stag horns. She was naked and mounted on like a trophy.

The whole class was silent. Watching him with interest and curiosity. Some of them knew who his father was .

He took a deep breath. "Hannibal the Cannibal. The infamous genius criminal who butchered his preys and took the trophy pieces from them, ate them. The only one in the history of United States Law enforcement to dodge all the attempts successfully and in the process, made us complete fools." He recited the exact words from the book "The Prince of Crime:Psychology of the Cannibal" By Jane Wen, the avid fan(not in a bad way) of Hannibal Lector's work. Mrs Wen was his mentor and she was one of the FBI special agents who want to be the one to put Hannibal behind bars.

"You can see his great care in every details of presentation. How he even managed to do such a work in putting the display. it self, can be considered as a work of art." He looked up at the picture again. He knew that everyone in the room already knew those facts. He knew that some even lost their curiosity and raised their brows to hear what boring things he would speak next.

He sharply turned towards the class.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He pointed at the screen. "This photo was not taken 38 years ago." He saw confusion and horrors. "It was taken yesterday."

"We either have a copycat or the Cannibal has struck again after 35 years."


	2. Chapter 2

"You should have waited."

William ignored his friend, Carter Novik. He was a FBI agent under Jack Crawford untill Jack retired and gave up his position to him. Now, he's the one hunting down serial killers.

"The newer the blood. The fresher the ideas." He answered back without looking at his smirking friend. "Don't pretend that you don't like that. You are the one who sent me those photos and gave me permission to use in my lecture."

They went out shoulder by shoulder. One, slim and soft, with black hair and welcoming expression. One, broad and tall, a big man with hispanic features. Two best friends, well-known in their circle of colleages as invincible two, because of their reputations in success rate of catching killers.

"Where are we going?"

"You do even need to ask? We are going to the crime scene." William followed Carter to his car. He had to increase his pace to keep up with Carter's long stride.

"Another? Copy cat too?"

That stopped hisfriend. Carter whirled around. "Are you sure that's Copy Cat?"

William shrugged. "I think so."

"You told me yesterday that it is highly possible to be the Ripper's work."

Will shook his head. "I was not sure untill this morning."

"Tell me. Why do you think it's the copycat, and not the Chesapeake Ripper himself?"

"It's the motive, Carter. The motive."

"What motive! Hannibal Lector has no motive. He is a hunter who hunts for kill and ...and for consummation." Will rolled his eyes while Carter raised his voice and drew the attention of a couple of trainees. "All he cares about is the process of preparing the victims,both anatomically and culinarily. Every process James and Nora had performed showed exactly the same what Hannibal had done before!"

"Carter. We are in the Parking lot. Not in the task force room." Will said in a low voice, his face clearly showing irritation. Carter had always been a hot-headed man, but straight as an arrow,by-the-book type of agent. He never broke any rules even in the rampaging moments. That's why he was in the top and climbing ladders of command in a steady rate.

Carter glanced side to side, scaring away the curious trainees and fellow agents and even a few passerbys, with his hard stony gently touched Will's arm gesturing him to quickly follow him. "Let s go."

"I have my car, you know." Will sighed slipping into the passenger seat of Carter's Range Rover.

In The Taskforce room.

Carter Novik, Head of the Unit for Serial Homicide and Violent Crime, James Novik, Carter's energetic younger brother and a hotshot agent,and the FBI coroner,Dr. Nora Hanoki. All principal members of the taskforce were sitting around the big round table, eagerly waiting for Graham Jr., the son of the famous FBI special agent Will Graham, and rising star of Criminal Psychology,a psychiatrist as well as a FBI special agent.

"There is no evidence that I can point out clearly that this is a work of Copycat." Will continued ignoring the upset looks of his fellow agents. "This is all hypothesis."

He clicked the start and the projector in front of them show the separate photos of his father and Hannibal Lector side by side.

"We all know that Lector killed the girl to make a point. He didn't want to be mistaken with the Minnesota Shrike. He wanted to show that he's the superior one. The more powerful one." He stopped talking,showing the crime scene photo of the Ripper's Victim. And then, the picture of Jacob Hobbs, the infamous Minnesota Shrike, the one his father had killed with the help of Hannibal Lector, a fact the people before him didn't know. They also didn't know that his father was the one Hannibal Lector was trying to show the difference. He, being the son of the Will Graham, knew everything between his father and the infamous chrismatic cannibal. Not even with his death, would he reveal the relationship between the two brilliant men.

"Everything about Hannibal has a purpose. He displayed his victims to prove a point. They always carry a message. They always have a meaning. He thinks he's God. To him, the displays are the messages he send to us."

He paused again to show the latest photo of the crime scene, he now well knew,that the work of a copy cat.

"This crime scene means nothing. The display means nothing. The killer is just trying to recreate exactly what Hannibal Lector had done. All he is a son trying to imitate his father, following his father's step, copying him. Hoping to reach the greatness his father had achieved."

If he were facing his friends, they would see his eyes gazing nothing, losing himself inside the world of imagination. In his head, he was standing in a field of cat-tails, before him was the latest victim of the Hannibal Copycat. She was a pretty girl. Looking at her made his heart ache with sympathy. How young! How vibrant! Killing her must be so much satisfying for the killer. Someone stepped beside him. He looked at the new comer.

He was looking right into the dark blue eyes of his own. He was looking right into his own face. A mirror appear before him. And the image shows no one. He was invisible. He was anonymous.

"Will!" Carter's voice snapped him back to the reality. "Are you alright? "

"Yeah. I'm alright."

He looked back to his friend. They all saw him wearing the face of enlightenment. And they knew that he had broken the message of the killer.

"He was Anonymous. Brilliant people like him hates anonymy. He is making a statement to the world of his existence."

Will's voice suddenly cold and impassive,"Ladies and Gentlemen. We now have a new Hannibal Lector in town."


	3. Chapter 3

In a cafe, Chicago

The old man sat quietly behind the counter, reading the morning paper. The little cafe was uncommonly devoid of customers and he found no objection to this freedom since his part-time girls were excused temporarily for their exams.

A little bell ring and he looked up from his paper with annoyance. A very beautiful dark head entered the cafe, morning sunlight envelope her like golden cloak, highlighthing her etheral beauty.

The old man couldn't help but stared . She looked about, standing gracefully in her gray dress and black cardigans. Finally she seemed to notice the old man and decided to occupy the stoole against him.

"What can I do for you, lady?"

She just smiled. Without saying a word, she took out a drawing pad and what looked to be a box of pencils from her bag. He just watched her pretty fingers worked.

"Please give me Espresso and a slice of key lime pie."

Her voice was so clear and sweet that he had to think twice if she actually say this or that is the voice of an angel. But he did his job.

The angel just drew and drew without a word. He wondered why she choose that stoole instead of that fine couch near the window, which is the favourite seat among artists.

"Here's your order."

He put the food down and couldn't help but steal a glance at her drawing. He was not surprised to see the face of a young man with slightly curly hair, and a soft kind face.

"He's handsome. Is he your boyfriend?"

"No." She said. The look of surprise on her face was unsettling. "He does not know me."

"Oh! A crush then." The old man smiled warmly. How romantic!

"Well. I wouldn't say to that extent. He's the person of interest in my artwork." She smiled widely. "He'll be my masterpiece."

"I see then. Best of luck I wish. You know, that is a nice warm face. He's lucky you choose him."

"I'm lucky I found him. I haven't talked to him face to face but he shows interest in my it's kind of enough for me Well. I have to go. I have to be out of town." She grabbed her things and smiled. "Again. So sorry. I won't be able to have you as the subject of my next art work. "

"What a shame. I'd love to be." The old man laughed, waving goodbye to the nice pretty lady,having no idea of how lucky he was.

"That is kind really really creepy." Will said out loud looking at the body pieces.

He was standing in a warehouse filled with human body parts arranged into a heart-shape. Torsos, limbs, but no head, to his relief. According to Dr Hanoki,, the original owners were dead long before these mutilations happen.

"Look here." Hanoki showed him a piece of limb which seemed to be part of right fore arm. There were numbers printed over the pale leathery skin. "These are body codes used in some medical school. You can donate your body for the research purpose before you die. And when you die, they put these numbers on your body and store you in a preservation room. These are fresher than usual, which means they were snatched from their rightful place, before they were treated in formaldehyde."

"I see," Carter Novik, the senior Agent and leader of the taskforce said in a much more optismistic tone. The sickness he had originally felt in his belly reduced to simple anxious feeling. No one had died for this madness."That certainly narrow the places to you think we can find out from which these bodies came from just from these numbers?" He asked hopefully rubbing his hands.

"No. You can't." Will answered, drawing attention to him. He smiled in a carefree way. "But how can a person obtain such many dead bodies. Not just any body. Those belong to a certain facility. Just ask around. You'll find from where."

He then turned away, walking with his hands in his pant pockets.

"Aren't you looking around?" Agent Carter called out after him.

"I have. That's not our new priority." Will turned and shouted back, while walking backward."This guy lacked focus and gut and his work is so crude that it is even an insult to doubt that this is our new guy's work."

"So What!" Carter shouted. "We still have a case to solve."

"The case is already solved! Ask Nora!" Then, Will just left, leaving them dumbfounded, minus one.

Nora chuckled. "Two days ago, a car carrying a number of donated bodies for the research department of our Forensic Unit was stolen while the driver was eating at a diner. We already have the thief in custody. Unfortunately, he has mental disorder and we knew nothing of what happened to the bodies." She shrugged. "It was not a big case and no damage was great enough to cause a uproar. Only the ones from Forensic knew."

She pointed at a truck covered in plastic sheets. "That might be the car."

Will laughed softly while walking. The case was not what he had expected. But he enjoyed and even had fun thinking out the culprit. Who knows Hannibal's copycat was mistaken with a mental irony..

His Phone rang and he answered although he didn't recognise the number.

"Hello. Is this Doctor Graham." A young man voice.

"Yes. I am."

"Oh. Hi. My name is Bobby Gallard from Tattle Crime." Oh. Bad news. Will thought. His father's disdain for that particular gossip tabloid that later developed surprisingly to a paper, was well-known.

"What can I do for you." He asked politely.

"Ah. Are you on the case that involve Hannibal Lector's infamous work?"

"To my knowledge nothing was released anything about Lector and you must be rather mistaken about it." He said defensively.

"I know. Sir. Please don't be mad. I called to help."

Really? Why can't I believe you. "We are utmost thankful for any information." Will was not exactly listened from unreliable sources. He was part nice, and part manipulative, according to Carter.

"Sir. According to a Friend, Hannibal Lector had a child."


End file.
